


My Lover's Eyes

by matanee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-TWS, Romance, handjob, it should be a character tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matanee/pseuds/matanee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"What makes you happy?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>There it is, a whisper, like the sound of wind. It resonates through him, even though it's so small and quiet, and Steve smiles, his eyes fixed on the white ceiling.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"This. You."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>There are people in Steve's life, then there's Bucky. There are people he cares about, then there is Bucky. There are things he believes in, then there is Bucky.</p><p>As he has always been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Lover's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ivana for the gorgeous feedback, I nearly started crying when I saw how much you liked this story. I'm not a native English speaker, so forgive me for any mistakes.
> 
> There is a companion fanmix for this fanfiction, I highly recommend you to listen to it while reading: http://8tracks.com/thranduilistic/breathe

"You used to be so small."

Steve slowly opens his eyes, the light coming from behind Bucky and giving him a dark silhouette temporarily blinds him. He closes his eyes for a second before looking at Bucky again, this time seeing his face properly.

Bucky's finger traces the veins on Steve's arm and Steve feels the goosebumps appearing on his skin. The touch of the brunet is soft and careful, his metal fingers brushing against his pulse like feather.

"I used to believe your ma when she said you were an angel," Bucky continues, his eyes fixed somewhere on Steve's bare chest. Steve watches Bucky with sleepy eyes, trying to control his rapidly growing heartbeat as he tilts his head to the side. "When you had a fever, your eyes were glowing like you had... something inside you. Something not human, wanting to get out. Your ma said it was your grace."

Steve feels his chest tighten when Bucky caresses his palm, sending a jolt of warmth through Steve's spine. It's like electricity, and he decides not to speak, to let Bucky talk. His voice is soothing, and the sight is divine. There is nothing more Steve could ask for.

"Your hand was smaller, too," Bucky murmurs, his eyes now on Steve's hand. "I could fit it between mine when it was ice cold in the winter."

He lays his palm flat against Steve's, right until metal fingers entwine with the flesh. It fits perfectly, and Steve can see that wonder in Bucky's eyes, the wonder how these fingers that were created to destroy could be used for such delicacy. Then, he's looking at Steve, and Steve can pinpoint the moment when the deep blue eyes start smiling, right before his lips could catch up.

It must've always been the most beautiful sight Steve ever witnessed.

"I still feel small when I'm with you," Steve whispers and Bucky's smile widens, only so that Steve would be the single person on Earth to spot it.

When Bucky leans down to press a gentle kiss on Steve's jaw, the blond's eyes fall closed and he sighs, leaning his head back on the pillow carefully. He hears the sound of stubble against skin, skin against sheets, sheets against air. His hand is raising from metal to land a touch somewhere between shoulderblades and Bucky bends underneath his fingers, warm and real. The morning smells like cigarette, shampoo and love, and Steve feels teeth against his earlobe. He shivers and swallows a moan, biting on his lower lip with eyes rolling back into his skull.

The metal fingers are sending shivers down Steve's body, ever so carefully pressing against the blond's ribs. They move lower with time and Steve's fingers find the nape of Bucky's neck, pulling him back with need. It's a slow need, a loving need, a patient need, and Bucky lets himself, directing his lips back to the ones already waiting for him.

The kiss is still, unmoving. Lips are barely touching, only breaths are exchanged and hands are moving everywhere. The tips of their tongues meet each other halfway through and Steve opens his eyes, only to see Bucky's closing. He has a smile on as he takes Bucky's tongue between his lips, drawing a sigh from the brunet. It's the same need on his face that Steve feels.

Just then, Steve feels the metal fingers curl around him and all thoughts fly out of his mind with the moan that slips out of him.

"Bucky," he breathes. This time, it's his tongue between lips, being sucked and nipped at, and Steve closes his eyes. He bucks his hips against the hand on him and the hand responses. It's not the first time feeling cool metal against him instead of flesh, and it's all fine because it's Bucky. Bucky, Bucky, _Bucky._

Everywhere.

The lips are closing in and it's not only his tongue trapped. He feels trapped, in arms he would be want to trapped anytime in history. The only trap where he feels safe. It's deep, silent and dripping with passion, not breaking for a second and, if anything, only pulling even closer. It's chest against chest, Steve's fingers curling around locks of brown hair, coaxing sounds out of someone who is usually so silent and collected.

Now, Bucky is _all_ sounds, his parts are scattered around the bed, around Steve's body like a blown up puzzle. One kiss and one kiss only resulted in this and Steve smiles. Because of his building rapture, because of words muttered against his tongue and teeth in a language he can't quite understand, because of joy bubbling inside him.

"Bucky-" he thrusts his hips again and he smiles, he laughs. He laughs as his body rises from the bed, as the waves of pleasure shake him, then, he smiles as lips do the same against his skin. They smile like children, like the first time they did this and it's still all messy, sticky. They couldn't care less.

"Breathe," he hears the voice in his ears and he obeys, realizing only now that he held his breath for longer than anytime before. He heaves, he battles for oxygen and there are lips over his body still, his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder. The metal hand is support now, support for weight as Bucky towers over Steve and Steve wraps both arms around the other's neck, allowing love to flow through him like a river.

Then, when there is a weight over him he thought he wouldn't be able to bear but he does anyway, it's silence again. There is an ear just above his heart, listening to the beats and Steve smiles, burying his hand in Bucky's hair.

"What makes you happy?"

There it is, a whisper, like the sound of wind. It resonates through him, even though it's so small and quiet, and Steve smiles, his eyes fixed on the white ceiling.

"This," he answers, his voice still hoarse from the pleasure that still fizzling in his blood, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through his body. "You."

"Me?"

The question is confused, almost in a childish manner, and Steve's smile drops a little. He recognizes that tone, not quite his best friend's and lover's, but someone else's. Someone who is still deep inside, despite months of holding it together so well. He won't let his concern show, though, and he just buries his fingers deeper in Bucky's hair, pressing soothing circles on the brunet's head.

A soft sigh leaves Bucky's lips and Steve feels it all over his chest.

"You."

There is a moment of silence before Bucky's eyelashes are brushing against Steve's skin and the blond trembles ever so slightly. The metal hand is flat on his stomach and Steve covers it with his own. The tension leaves Bucky's body at last.

"How could I make you happy if I don't even know who _'I'_ is?"

Steve's eyes fall closed and he inhales.

"I don't know," he admits, shaking his head a little. Bucky turns his hand, his palm facing Steve's palm this way, and Steve finds his wrist, tracing the spot where veins should lie. To Bucky, it feels like they do and that's all that matters. "But you do. And I don't need anything else as long as I have you."

There is no more speaking after that, only touching and phantom warmth on skin that's not there. It's only whispers of names after that, words that have weight now becoming weightless and flying through the morning sunlight. It's lazy kisses and embraces after that, gestures they were supposed to exchange decades earlier. It's a drop of sweat or tear after that, huge, wondering eyes and perfect smiles.

It's a day of miracles and love after that, and they wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
